


The Game's Afoot

by mosylu



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28389660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosylu/pseuds/mosylu
Summary: She's a pampered English heiress seeking adventure in the Yucatan. He's the guide she hired to take her to the temple three days into the jungle.Both of them are lying.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 13
Kudos: 73
Collections: The RebelCaptain Network Secret Santa Exchange





	The Game's Afoot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halflingmerry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halflingmerry/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, @halflingmerry! I was your Secret Santa! You asked for a modern James Bond/Lara Croft AU, and I hope this delivers.

Report: Target arrived in town. She has been supplying herself for an excursion, indicating a local temple she wishes to investigate. The consensus is that she's just another bored, rich tourist who will probably die in the jungle.

Reply: Proceed as you see fit.

* * *

Jyn hired a guide in Merida. Tenoch spoke very little English, but Jyn's map and pesos communicated for her very well. He gave her a skeptical look when he saw the destination, but she added more pesos to the pile and he shrugged. 

They made good time the first day. She checked her GPS after they made camp for the night and did some calculations. If they kept this up, they were about two days out from the temple, which was what she'd planned for.

The satellite signal on her phone was a little shaky this far into the jungle but she could still get a video feed of her foster brother, Bodhi. "Oh good," he said when he saw her face. "You haven't been eaten by a jaguar."

"The night is young," she said. 

"You've got a good guide?"

She glanced at Tenoch, squatted down over the fire, stirring something in a little tin pot. "Seems to be. We're not doing a lot of talking. You know how crap my Spanish is."

Bodhi started to say something, then paused and changed it to, "As long as he stops you getting crushed to death by a - " He looked off into the distance. "Wait, what's that snake? The one that wraps around your throat and squeezes you to death?"

She rolled her eyes. "There are no boa constrictors in the Yucatan. I'm more concerned about falling down a cenote."

"What're those then?"

"Bloody great sinkhole with a lot of water in the bottom. If the fall doesn't kill you, the drowning will."

"Are you sure you're going to make it to that temple alive?"

"Probably not," she said cheerfully. "You'll inherit my millions."

"I'll be very sad about that," he promised solemnly. "I promise to wipe my eyes with thousand-pound notes at your memorial service."

"I only get a memorial service? Wanker."

"Yes, because your body is somewhere in the jungle, swollen to twice its size after being bitten by some hideously poisonous bug."

"Venomous," she corrected. "Poisonous is when you eat it." She thought. "Or touch it."

"Right," he said. "I stand corrected. I'm glad you called, anyway, and not just because it's proof of life. Saw Gerrera's been in touch."

She let out a heartfelt groan. "Come on, Bodes, none of that business stuff. It's so deadly dull."

Bodhi, who'd been neck and neck with her all throughout their MBA program, looked taken aback. She cut her eyes to his left, where his tall, dour new assistant was sorting out the day's mail.

He adjusted and sniffed, "Well, sor-ry, but it's your money, and you should know what's going on with it."

"No," she retorted, studying her nails, "your job is to know what's going on with it, Mister CEO. I'm the owner. I just have to sign the checks."

"And go gadding about the world."

"That too."

"As long as you're back for the founder's ball."

She sobered. "In twenty years, have I ever missed my mother's birthday?"

"No," he said, voice equally gentle. "Not even once."

They chatted a little more, Bodhi sharing some misadventure his youngest sister had got into over the weekend and Jyn telling him about her flight from London to Merida.

Just as Bodhi was asking her about her preparations for the excursion, his new assistant hove into view like an iceberg looming over the Titanic. "Mr. Rook," he said. "You have a meeting with the VP of finance in exactly seven and one-half minutes."

"Thank you, Kay," Bodhi said, giving Jyn a look through the video feed.

"I would end your call with Ms. Erso as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Kay," Bodhi said again. "Do you have the reports we'll be going over?"

"They are on your tablet."

"I'd like paper copies, please."

Somehow managing to impart that Bodhi was the most ridiculous and unreasonable boss in the world without changing his expression, Kay stalked away.

Jyn snickered. "Go on to your important and scintillating meeting," she said. "Me, I'm going to shovel down some rations and sleep like a log."

"Pace too rough for you?" he teased.

She flipped him off. "Jet lag, if you must know." She rolled her shoulders. "Love to your mum and the girls."

"Stay safe," Bodhi said, and signed off.

She shut her satphone down and leaned against a tree, thinking hard.

Bodhi's old assistant, Tivik, had left suddenly for a new job, and Kay had turned up as if by magic. They were neither of them stupid, and they knew Kyber Limited had its fair share of business rivals. Corporate espionage was to be expected. But she'd always felt it best to keep your enemies where you could see them.

Her satphone slipped from her hand and she made a grab for it.

There was a high-pitched whistle and a reverberating thud. 

Jyn's head jerked up. Her guide was a dark shape looming over her, both hands gripping a machete handle. The machete itself was stuck fast in the tree that she'd been standing under.

If she hadn't ducked her head to grab for the satphone, the blade would have gone through her neck.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she stared up into his shadowed face. Only a faint glint showed her where his eyes were. She had a knife in her boot and the machete was stuck fast. Could she reach her weapon before he could retrieve his?

A thump and a rustle by her feet caught her attention.

Half a snake flopped over the ground, still writhing, the mouth gaping open and fangs glittering evilly in the dusk. Instinctively, she kicked it hard with the steel toe of her boot, and the body soared into the campfire.

Tenoch watched it disappear into the flames with sizzling, popping noises, and then said, "Una vibora. Viper."

She swallowed hard. "Si. Yo se." She nodded stiffly. "Gracias."

"De nada."

He wrenched his machete from the tree trunk, and the other half of the snake crashed to the ground. Put together with the front half, Jyn guessed it had been two feet long at least, and she swallowed bile.

Seemingly unaffected, he used the bloody machete to flick the second half of the snake into the darkness. "La comida está lista," he said, jerking his head toward the fire and the little tin pot he'd been stirring.

Thank god he'd covered it.

She followed him back to the campfire with shaky legs, cursing at herself. She'd been so deep in thought she hadn't stayed aware of her surroundings.

She of all people should know that the jungle would kill you to death given half a chance. It was what had happened to her mother. 

She and Bodhi might joke about it, but Lyra Erso had gone into this jungle and hadn't come out. Jyn was well aware she might not find a trace of her mother at the temple that had been her last, failed expedition, but she'd been planning this trip for years, and she wasn't about to let a snake or a bug or a jaguar or a cenote or even a taciturn guide stop her.

* * *

They agreed that he would take the first watch, and Tenoch settled himself cross-legged, with his back to the fire to preserve his night vision. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jyn Erso crawling into the tent.

He listened to the rustling and shuffling sounds of her getting ready for bed. The zip of the sleeping bag, the further shuffling of her getting comfortable and settled. He waited half an hour more, eyes tracking the jungle for animal or human intruders, ears cocked to the noises from the tent, patient as the grave. 

Then he rose soundlessly and made his way to the tent. He eased the zipper open silently, eyes and ears both attuned to the slow-breathing form in the sleeping bag. 

She lay curled on her side, one hand knotted up under her cheek like a child. The traces of light from the campfire behind him outlined her face. The line of her chin remained stubborn even in sleep, and her chapped Cupids-bow lips were ever-so-slightly parted . . . 

He shook himself. He was here to do a job, not moon over a pampered English heiress.

Although for a pampered English heiress, she'd done very well on the trail today.

Her pack was settled at her feet, right at the opening of the tent. He closed his hand around any buckles and metal pieces that would jingle and lifted it out of its place, letting the tent flap fall closed behind him.

He checked the outside pockets first. First aid kit, extra foldable canteen, iodine tablets, sunblock, insect repellent . . . All manner of small necessary items, but no top-of-the-line satphone.

He moved to the central compartments, pulling each item out and mentally noting the way it had been packed so he could replace it exactly the same way. Rice, dried meat, beans, carefully and thoroughly wrapped in plastic. Extra clothing. Soap, again wrapped in plastic. Rain gear. Toiletries, in more plastic.

No satphone.

His own, with its mirroring app pulled up and ready to do its job, waited in its pocket against his thigh.

She'd kept hers on her all day, gripped in her hand or locked into its case on her belt. He'd attempted to mirror it this morning as they set out, jostling up next to her on the trail, but the security on it was rather better than most. He needed more than mere proximity; he had to get his hands on it, possibly unlock it, in order for his own to do its job. 

Did she keep it on her body even as she slept? When did she charge it? The things sucked down power like a drunk swallowing rum.

Their trip would take at least a week more - two to the temple, one or two to explore, and three more back to Merida. He would surely have a chance to hack into it. 

But the longer he took, the more information his superiors could miss. 

Frowning to himself, he re-packed everything scrupulously back in its place and fastened it tightly closed. He lifted it off the ground and turned to go put it back in the tent -

And found the supposedly fast-asleep woman standing behind him, her heavy walking stick ready to swing at his head. In a deadly pleasant voice, she asked in perfect Spanish, "Find anything interesting?"

He went still, staring up at her, calculating which of several stories he could use.

“Don’t waste either of our time playing innocent,” she said. She switched to English. “And don’t pretend you don’t understand me, either. I know you were listening in on my call."

Some of the possible stories were discarded.

“Do you blame me?” he said. He layered his English with extra helpings of his accent. “I could sell this pack and all its contents for many pesos.”

“And what would you have done with me?” she asked silkily.

“You have experience, hiking the jungle. You might have made it back.” He shrugged, as if to say it was in the hands of a higher power. “Then again, you might not.”

She gave a little huff of amusement. “I might buy that if you hadn’t had a brilliant opportunity to let me die of snakebite earlier this evening.”

He wanted to scowl. He did not. 

"You're not just some con man out to make quick money. Not the way you ignored all my easily pocketed supplies and tools. You were looking for my satphone. You've been pointedly ignoring it all day, after you tried to mirror it this morning."

He felt the scowl almost emerge, in his forehead and the corners of his mouth, and purposely blanked his face. He was usually much better than this at controlling his expression. 

Her mouth quirked up smugly. "Who do you work for? Alderaan Corp? Mos Eisley and Company?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Not the Hutt brothers?" 

Calculations churned. 

It was a common misconception that spies always lied. Sometimes, if it would get them what they wanted, they told the truth.

He let the pack fall and rose to his feet, not missing the way she resettled her grip and her stance in response. "Interpol,” he said. 

"Interpol," she said with deep and withering skepticism.

He shrugged. Believe it or don't, the shrug said.

She eyed him. "And what does Interpol want with Kyber Limited?"

"Perhaps Interpol wants you."

She snorted. "It comes to the same thing."

Damn. He should have known better than to believe her loudly proclaimed disinterest in business. Not after she'd done an MBA at Cambridge. But the woman flitted around the world while Rook stayed in London at the Kyber Limited offices.

He tested her out. "What do you know about Imperial Industries?"

She shrugged. “Weapons manufacturers. We don’t have much to do with them.”

“An energy company could have a lot to do with a weapons manufacturer.”

“Yes, well, the company my mother started doesn’t.”

“And your father works for Imperial.”

She snorted. “This is about Galen Erso? You’re barking up the wrong tree, Interpol. I haven't spoken to him since he left for California, the day after my mother's funeral."

"That's a very long time to ignore your only child."

"I didn't say he hadn't tried. I haven't responded. Kyber Limited does very well without Galen Erso." She frowned at him. "What's he done?"

"Interpol has reason to believe Imperial Industries is building a device that contravenes international standards."

"Those naughty boys," she said.

"And by international standards, I mean the Geneva Convention."

"A super-weapon, " she said. "How delightful. I'm sure we'll all sleep cozy in our beds, knowing the Americans have that."

"It may not be the Americans. Not if they're not the highest bidder."

A moment. Then - "Ah." Her thumb rubbed over a knot in the wood, the only betrayal of restlessness. "And my father's building that, is he?"

"His research has applications."

"Well, as I said, Interpol - "

"Andor," he said.

"What?"

"My name is Cassian Andor."

She could run his name and get proof that he was who he said he was, and he had no doubt she would at the first opportunity.

"Cassian," she said, and his eyes narrowed. "As I said, I'm not in touch with my father, and I don't intend to change that." She narrowed her eyes back at him. "I think if I did, he might get suspicious."

Cassian thought otherwise, but he kept it to himself. 

"So," she finished. "You can traipse off back to your superiors if you like. Let them know I'm a dead end."

"You hired me to guide you to the temple," he said. "I prefer to finish a job I've started."

"Do you even know the way?"

"I grew up in Merida," he said. 

"Merida's the state capitol. Lots of people grew up there. That's not an answer."

"I know the way," he said. "And I have my own reasons for wanting to check it out."

"Do you now? Because as far as I know, my father's never been here."

"No," Cassian said. "But his boss has."

"His boss," Jyn echoed.

"Orson Krennic," Cassian said. "In fact, he went at the same time as your mother's last expedition."

Her face went to stone. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying nothing," he said. "I'd merely like to do some checking of my own at that location. See what there is to see."

Her thumb rubbed over the knot on her walking stick again.

Cassian tested the waters. "Or we could go back to Merida. You could hire some other guide."

"No," she said, and cleared her throat. "No," she said. "We're already a third of the way there and I don't feel like wasting the trip. As you say, we've both got reasons to go."

"True enough," he said. "And perhaps we could help each other."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Interpol." She scooped up her pack. "Just you keep your mitts off my satphone, and I'll do the same for you."

* * *

Once back in her tent, Jyn slid her satphone from her pocket and texted Bodhi. _You were right, he's Interpol. Counter-terrorism. Apparently, Imperial is being very bad indeed. What’s Kay after?  
_

Bodhi texted back right away. Either his meeting was done or it was a crashing bore. **So far he’s been digging through most of R &D. Nice to know he’s not going to sell the false leads I’ve provided. Have you got your fellow hooked?**

_Oh, yes. He even brought up Krennic himself. Now let's see where our two fish lead us._

* * *

Back by the fire, Cassian sent a text of his own. _I dangled Orson Krennic in front of her and whetted her appetite. Continue to monitor her communications with Rook. If her father reaches out again, she'll tell him. Galen Erso is the weak spot, and his daughter is our way in._

FINIS


End file.
